A Summer Without Rain Excerpts
by ChristieGordon
Summary: Yaoi,Slash,M/M Historical Romance:In 1920's Ireland, Shannon, molested at fourteen by a male teacher, knows his feelings for Ciaran are forbidden. But a stolen embrace in a barn and a journery to Dublin tears down the walls between them. Can love survive?
1. Excerpt 1

**A Summer Without Rain**

© Copyright Christie Gordon

All rights reserved, eXtasy Books

ISBN: 978-1-55487-231-2

_Blurb:_

In 1920's Ireland, Shannon understands all too well that the love and hunger he feels for his best friend, Ciaran, is forbidden. He's already shunned by his town and emotionally damaged from enduring painful confessions after a male teacher's molestation at age fourteen. But when he finds Ciaran in a barn, grieving over the sudden death of his mother, a hasty and desperate embrace shatters an unspoken boundary between them. Then, Shannon and Ciaran are sent on a journey to Dublin to bring a family heirloom to Ciaran's aunt. Along the way, a drunken evening leads to an illicit act in a hotel room, confusing Ciaran and forcing them both down a treacherous path of deceit and desire. Can love overcome the obstacles of Irish society, the Catholic Church, and political unrest?

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_PG Excerpt 1:_

The waitress nodded and trotted off.

Ciaran leaned over to Shannon. "She was pretty, wasn't she?"

Jealousy stabbed his heart. Why did Ciaran always have to talk about the women he was interested in? "I suppose. She was bloody rude though."

Ciaran shifted in his seat to look directly at him. "Do you ever find women you like?"

He focused on his hand, still rapping on the table surface. What was he supposed to say to that?

The waitress returned, setting pints in front of the young men. Pausing, she smiled at Ciaran before leaving.

He watched the short flirtation with disdain eating away at him. He brought his beer to his lips and gulped down a good portion of it, relishing the calming effect it had on him. Wait a minute. If he got drunk enough, his senses would be numbed. Then he wouldn't care if Ciaran flirted with the waitress and maybe he'd pass out and wouldn't have to think about his beautiful, naked body sleeping next to him. Yes, it's a brilliant plan. Raising his pint to his mouth again, he gulped down the rest of his beer.

Grinning, Ciaran's gaze followed the tilt of Shannon's pint. "Bloody thirsty, aye?"

His rapping on the table surface renewed along with the jerking of his knee. "You could say that." He held up his empty glass, catching the eye of the waitress. After a few minutes, another beer was set in front of him.

"Shannon, stop it, you're making me nuts."

"What? Why?"

Reaching over, Ciaran covered his hand with his own and looked directly into his eyes. "What on Earth is bothering you? We are on an adventure here. You can bloody relax."

He stared at their hands covering each other on the table and gulped hard. "N-nothing's bothering me, really." What the hell was Ciaran doing?

Ciaran brought a leg over the bench, straddling it, and scooted up close to him, putting him between his legs. His hand stayed over Shannon's.

"Um, wh-what are you doing?" His gaze stayed on the hands in front of him.

"You have something in your hair. I wonder how long it's been there?" Ciaran reached up over his head.

Light tapping danced on the top of his head. A slight tug pulled at a lock of his hair. Licking his lips, he closed his eyes for a second. His heart pounded in his chest. It beat so loud, could Ciaran hear it? As he opened his eyes, a hand grasping a small piece of bark shoved its way into his vision.

"Look, it's bleedin' bark. You must have carried it all the way from home," Ciaran said, chuckling. He removed his hand from Shannon's, but stayed close.

His nonstop rapping and jerking ceased. He slowly brought his gaze from their hands to his friend's beautiful face and down to his lips. Oh, how he wanted to kiss them.

Ciaran let out a soft gasp, softening his expression, letting his jaw grow slack and his gaze rest ongray eyes. "Shannon," his voice was a husky whisper.

His name flowed out of Ciaran's mouth in a way he'd only heard in his fantasies. Desire mixed with horror to sweep through his senses. _I have to stop thinking this way!_ He had to get a handle on himself. "Um, I-I need to go take a piss." Jerking up, he jumped from the bench and fled to the restroom.

* * * *

Ciaran gazed at the other patrons in the bar. There was that look again. The same one he'd seen in the barn. Why was Shannon looking at him like that? Why did it make him feel so strange?

He fingered the edge of his pint. His relationship with him was changing, wasn't it? It was as if an unspoken boundary was broken and he could feel comfortable touching him. He did feel much closer to him now and it felt good. After all, his mother just passed and he needed the physical contact, right? That was all it was. Why had Shannon always been so adverse to it anyway? It was always such a bizarre trait of Shannon's, so unnatural. But for some reason, he was just like that.

The waitress walked up to the table carrying two plates of shepard's pie. "Got your food here."

He smiled at her.

* * * *

Shannon entered the restroom and paced the floor. His head reeled with questions. Why did Ciaran sit so close to him? Why was Ciaran suddenly touching him all the time? And how the hell was he going to sleep in the same room with him tonight? Holding up his fists to his temples, he shut his eyes tight against his frustration. He'd just have to stick with his plan, get drunk and pass out.

Turning, he stared at himself in the reflection of a cracked mirror. The cracks sent a misshapen face staring back at him. Pieces of him were larger than normal while others were missing altogether. A monster, that's what he looked like.

Shaking his head, he went to the urinal and hurried to do his business. When he finished, he halted just inside the door. _One, two, three_. Reaching out, he tugged the door open and stepped into the tavern.

He stopped just outside the restroom door. Damned Ciaran was carrying on with that waitress again. Jealousy filled his heart. It was only a matter of time before he'd lose him forever to marriage. He shuddered at the thought. How alone and destitute would he be then? He strode to the table.

Giving Ciaran one last flirtatious smile, the waitress walked away.

Relief washed over him.

"Food's here." Ciaran looked up.

He took a seat at the end of the bench, not too close to him. "Yeah, looks good." He gulped down his beer and held up the empty glass for another refill.

The two ate in silence for a moment. The waitress returned with Shannon's pint.

Gazing up at her, he noticed her smiling at Ciaran again. "Keep them coming."

The waitress placed her hands on her hips. "Intend on getting bulloxed tonight, aye?"

He glanced at his friend. "Yeah, well, we're on a bloody adventure, right, Ciaran?"

"Yeah, I hear you two are on your way to Dublin. That would be an adventure," the waitress said.

Ciaran gazed at her, smiling. "Keep them coming for me, too."

"Sure thing." The waitress trotted off into the crowd.

Ciaran shoved his plate close to Shannon's and slid in next to him, hips and shoulders touching. He shoveled mashed potatoes, ground beef and carrots into his mouth.

His eyes widened, but he remained silent and focused on his food. _Just eat, Shannon._

After a few more beers and conversation, Ciaran paid the tab and they both left the pub. They walked next to each other through the lobby of the inn, their gait unsteady.

Ciaran bumped into the table in the lobby. The lamp jostled and tipped. Lunging forward, he caught it, fumbled with it and set it upright again. "Damn-it Shannon, help me out here, will you?"

"What do you want me to do?" Slurring, he turned a little too quick.

"Come here."

He stumbled over to his friend, weaving in front of him. He stared at him. He hadn't the foggiest why Ciaran would request such a thing.

Ciaran rose up and wrapped a sloppy arm around his friend's waist. "Help me." His voice echoed in the small lobby.

The sudden feel of that heavenly body pressed against him pulled himout of his stupor and sent his senses reeling. The sweet scent of Ciaran floated into his nose. How it made his pulse race and his body shiver. After a brief hesitation, he regained his composure. At least the beer dulled some of his senses. Holding him up, he assisted him up the stairs.

They stumbled every few steps, swore a bit, leaned on each other and maintained an uneven gait to their room.

Once inside, he shoved Ciaran away from him.

Gasping, the blond fell into the dark room on the floor on his hands and knees between the beds. A glow from the hallway light illuminated him.

Snickering, he brought his hand up to his mouth.

Ciaran twisted his neck, straining to look at his amused friend from the floor. He glared back. "Thanks a lot, bloody bastard."

"Oh come now. It's sort of a nice view, with your bloody arse pointed at me." He gasped in disbelief at what he'd just said. Rushing to straighten up, he feigned a cough.

Ciaran plopped his rear end on the floor and studied him as if confused.

Discomfort swept through him as Ciaran inspected him. All this physical contact and the beer was indeed making him say things he probably shouldn't say, he realized, too late.

Ciaran swayed, though still seated, and his brows tensed into a befuddled stare. He opened his mouth as if to speak and shut it again. He climbed up to standing, clicked the lamp on and fumbled with his shirt.

He closed the door and walked to the side of his bed. His fingers worked at his buttons.

Glancing at him, Ciaran pulled his arms out of his shirt.

He wiped at a droplet of sweat while it meandered down his forehead. Oh God, Ciaran was undressing, right next to him. The room sweltered around him while he tried not to watch, struggled to keep his eyes fixated on his own buttons.

Stealing a glance at Ciaran, his eyes fully digested the sight of Ciaran's broad back. His heart pattered at the way the muscles tucked into his small waist. What he'd give to run his tongue along the smooth, toned flesh. _Stop it, Shannon_.

Ciaran undressed down to his boxers and took another quick glance at him. A puzzled expression returned to his face. He shrugged and pulled the covers down. As he positioned himself to climb into bed, he took a double take at his suitcase lying open on the floor behind the footboard. He went to it, bent over and picked up his mother's locket. He rubbed it between his thumb and fingers, closing his eyes. He brought it with him while he climbed into his bed. Pulling up only a white sheet, he turned onto his side toward the wall. "Hurry up, will you?"

His hands rested on the button of his trousers. How the hell and exactly when was he supposed to take off his pants?

A loud, sorrowful sob filled the room.

Whirling around, he stared at him in disbelief.

Ciaran's shoulders shook while grief consumed him once more.

He rushed to him and sat on the edge of his bed. He reached a hand down to the grieving young man'sside in a gesture of comfort.

Rolling onto his back, Ciaran reached up, seized him and yanked him down into a tight embrace. "It…hurts…Shannon," Ciaran said, through hitched breathing.

Immediate skin-on-skin contact stunned him while his bare chest pressed sensually against Ciaran's. The scent and warmth of the embrace flooded his senses.

A few broken sobs escaped Ciaran. "Oh, Shannon, I-I could see her, the morning before she died. Sh-she made me breakfast, just like always. Why didn't I see it? Why couldn't I have known that it would be the last time I'd see her like that. Alive…not gray and dead."

He struggled. He must get away from him. He didn't know what to say. He just had to remove himself from his friend's naked chest. Wriggling and squirming, he shoved himself partway up, positioning his face directly in front of Ciaran's. He allowed a deep, lust-filled glimpse into sad,wet eyes.

Ciaran gasped.

He dropped his head downward, crushing his lips against Ciaran's. With eyes closed and brows furrowed, he relished in the forbidden kiss, taking all he could from it, letting it soothe the longing in his soul.

Ciaran's eyes widened inside a dark veil of hair. Slowly, they closed again.


	2. Excerpt 2

**A Summer Without Rain**

© Copyright Christie Gordon

All rights reserved, eXtasy Books

ISBN: 978-1-55487-231-2

_PG Excerpt 2:_

A horse pulling a small cart emerged down the street. Standing up, Shannon squinted his eyes to see the young man in the seat more clearly. Blond hair, white shirt, it was Ciaran all right. But what was all over the front of his shirt? As his friend came closer, the stains on the front of his shirt became clearer. Distinct dark, reddish-brown splotches came into view.

Redirecting his focus to Ciaran's face, he hurried toward him. Something dirtied his face as well. "Oh my God, Ciaran. Are you all right?" he said, while grabbing the horse's bridle and directing him to the alley next to the pub.

Ciaran beamed with a dumb expression. "Yeah, I'm great actually," he said as if proud. His body swayed with the motion of the cart.

"What's happened to you? Is that blood on your shirt?" Stopping the horse at the side door to the pub, he raised his hand to help Ciaran down.

Ciaran slapped Shannon's hand away. "I can get out of the bloody cart." He lumbered down.

As soon as Ciaran stepped on the ground, he seized him, drawing his body hard against his own. He buried his face against the side of Ciaran's head. "What happened? How bad is it? Did you come up against more Black and Tans?"

"What's all this then?" Iona stepped out from the side door to the pub.

Tossing Ciaran away, he spun around to face her, glaring. "See? He shouldn't have gone alone, he's hurt!" The one thing he couldn't handle was seeing the young man he loved hurt. Anger flooded his senses and he wasn't sure exactly whom to direct it at.

"Just a minute now. Ciaran, are you all right? What happened, sweet boy?" she asked in a calm voice.

Ciaran smiled. "I won. That's what happened. You should have seen it, Shannon. This bloody awful man was shouting at this poor woman. Well, I wouldn't have none of that. So I got between them and I told the man, _leave that woman alone! _And he told me to make him. So you know what? I bloody well did." A loud chuckle escaped him.

"What do you mean _you did_?" His anger faded. Terror gripped his heart.

"Um, he swung at me first and well, I got a bit of a bloody nose."

He gasped.

"But you should have seen me, Shannon. I clobbered him good, twice even, and he ran off," Ciaran said, puffing out his chest.

Iona grinned. "Well, I'm proud of you, Ciaran. You did a good thing." She nodded her head in encouragement.

Shannon continued to glare at Iona. "What do you mean? He could have gotten himself killed!"

"Hush, Shannon, don't be such a mother hen. Be proud for your friend," she said.

"But, I—"

"See? Don't be a mother hen." Ciaran let out a snicker.

He grunted, grabbing Ciaran by the arm. He hauled him into the side door of the pub, up the stairs and through Iona's flat into the bathroom. He hurried to wet a washcloth. His hand swiped the washcloth in harsh dabs over Ciaran's face, cleaning the dried blood from it.

"Shannon."

He dabbed.

"Shannon."

He dabbed, harder.

Swiftly reaching up, Ciaran snatched his friend's furious arm by the wrist. "Stop."

Fear raced through his body. Pain filled his eyes as he looked into Ciaran's bloodied face. He whined, "You could have been killed, Ciaran." How could he have been so thoughtless? A mixture of dread and sadness welled up in his chest.

Ciaran's stern expression softened. "Listen, I didn't kick off. I didn't even come close to kicking off. I'm fine, really. I'm sorry. I didn't mean to scare you."

His eyes met Ciaran's for the first time since he had this new understanding of himself. Terror seized his heart. What was it he saw in those green eyes? Did he dare think he saw something more than friendship? It was definitely different. Something definitely changed. Where they'd gone, there was no turning back to how they were. This thing between them was way beyond it. Somehow in the space of a few days, they both grew more emotionally than in the last few years.


	3. Excerpt 3

**A Summer Without Rain**

© Copyright Christie Gordon

All rights reserved, eXtasy Books

ISBN: 978-1-55487-231-2

_PG Excerpt 3:_

Shannon looked at the countryside surrounding their small cart, noticing patches of brown in the green hills. The patches weren't there the last time they came through here. Would everything finally just dry up?

The late afternoon heat sweltered around him, making sweat form on his brow and upper lip. He shifted his gaze forward and saw the small town they'd stayed at on their trip out.

It was time to talk to Ciaran. His thoughts went over and over about Iona's warning to be careful since they left Dublin and Ciaran kept holding his hand and giving him absent kisses. Although it was like a dream come true, he had to make him understand the full consequences of someone seeing him do those things. "We need to talk about something, Ciaran," his voice was low and firm.

With a wide grin spreading on his lips, Ciaran playfully pressed his shoulder into Shannon's chest. "Oh really, you mean you finally have something to say?" His body bumped along in the cart.

"This is bloody serious." Holding Ciaran's hand between them, he gave it a sharp squeeze.

"Ow." Ciaran startled and wiggled his hand.

He held tight and didn't let go.

Turning his head, Ciaran glared at his friend.

His brow tensed with worry. "We really have to be careful when we get back home. If anyone sees or even suspects they see something between us like this." He held up their entwined hands. "Well, it would be bloody awful." Ciaran's expression changed to something teetering between fear and confusion. "What do you mean, it would be bloody awful?"

"I mean awful, as in, it's illegal, Ciaran." _He better not question me as to how I know these things_. Would he have to disclose his illicit affair with Mr. Flannigan? He couldn't, not yet.

A faint smile played on Ciaran's lips. "You mean they'd put us in jail for holding hands?"

"Don't be daft. It would mean our special thing here would be over." Irritation rifled through his body. Should he tell Ciaran how he, himself would be driven from the town, if not killed? Should he tell Ciaran how he'd be forever shunned? No, it'd surely bring up the teacher.

As if in deep thought, Ciaran's eyes studied Shannon's face.

Fear jolted his heart, making his gaze dash away.

"But, how do y—"

"Just know I'd never see you again." _This conversation must end, here, now. _

"Don't even say that. I'd never let that happen." Ciaran frowned.

His voice became low and spiteful. "Yeah, well, sometimes you don't have a bloody choice." Unwrapping his fingers from his friend's, he rested his hand in his lap as they approached buildings and townspeople.

Pursing his lips and tensing his brows, Ciaran focused on their surroundings. As the inn came closer, he steered the horse to the front entrance.

"Listen, I'll check us in and bring our things up to the room. Then I'll meet you in the pub." He climbed off the cart, focusing his attentions on pulling Ciaran's suitcase and his pillowcase out of the back.

A quick smile flashed on Ciaran's face. "Hungry again, are we?"

He smiled back at his friend. "Yeah."

Shannon strolled into the smoke-filled tavern after taking care of his tasks to find Ciaran sitting at the same bench they'd sat at the last time they had dinner here. "Feeling a bit nostalgic, eh, Ciaran?" He let out a faint chuckle. Taking a seat next to Ciaran, he raked a hand through his long, dark hair and looked around the room. A fair amount of patrons filled the tables and sat at the bar. The place must be doing very well. A hand warmed his thigh, startling him. Plunging his hand down, he tossed Ciaran's hand off. He glared at him. "Didn't you hear what I said earlier?"

Ciaran looked at him with equal parts hurt and surprise. "Of course, but nobody could see that and besides, we're not home yet."

He leaned in close to him. "You never know who may be around. You think people from our town might not have traveled here? You think rumors can't spread from here to Enfield? Besides, you have to get used to keeping your hands to yourself now." He searched his friend's beautiful face. Did his words hurt Ciaran? But he had to get through to him.

Surprise faded from Ciaran's expression until only hurt remained.

Regret threaded through him. This was terrible. Maybe he shouldn't have been so harsh.

Ciaran turned his head away and stared with a frown at the far wall of the tavern.

He pressed his chest up against Ciaran's side. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have been so hard on you. It's just—"

Whirling around, Ciaran faced his friend. "What happened, Shannon? Why is it you know all these things?"


	4. Excerpt 4

**A Summer Without Rain**

© Copyright Christie Gordon

All rights reserved, eXtasy Books

ISBN: 978-1-55487-231-2

_Adult Excerpt 1:_

Sighing, Shannon headed for the stairs. He quickly made his way through the flat, into his room and sat down on the edge of the bed. Placing his elbows on his thighs, he leaned his chest over to let his hands cover his face.

His head was swimming, not only from the alcohol flooding his veins. The discussion with Iona about his sexuality, Ciaran getting hurt and now Ciaran saying point blank they were just friends was all too much, overwhelming. Plus, he tasted his beautiful friend again and it drove him mad. His mind flooded with images of what they did at the inn, of how he felt in his palm, of his friend's climax.

His hardened cock pushed against the confines of his trousers. Without thinking, he reached down and ran his palm across the smooth cloth covering the solid flesh, sending a delicious shudder through him. Two days had passed since he allowed himself any pleasure. His desire hummed inside him, yearned for release.

He heard Ciaran in the hallway, fumbling into his own room. He jumped up from the bed and stalked through the hallway into his room. He slammed the door with a thud behind him and watched, panting, while his friend turned around, in obvious shock.

"Sha—"

In a flash, his mouth fused with Ciaran's. His kiss was brutal in its quest for flesh, devouring everything in its wake. As it threw Ciaran backward, his arms captured and bound his prey. His hands tore at his friend's shirt, ripping it out of his pants. He thrust his hand underneath and up to ravage the soft skin. His hips shoved forward, pressing his erection hard into Ciaran's hips. Hearing a moan escape Ciaran, he joined him with a sharp gasp. His heart pounded. He craved more this time, as much as he would give him.

His attention shifted to Ciaran's neck. His mouth sucked and licked impatiently at sensitive skin in a track from Ciaran's jaw to his shoulder, reddening it. The hardness of Ciaran's cock thrust against him, through their trousers, while he walked them both to the bed. "Oh, God, I want you, Ciaran," he said in a husky voice through the war he raged on Ciaran's body.

"You have me," Ciaran said between ragged breaths. He shoved his hand up between them, making a frantic attempt to unbutton Shannon's shirt.

Hard tapping darted from one button to the next, down his chest to his groin. The feel of Ciaran's hands finally doing something to him, even this, made him shiver with desire. A loud moan escaped him. "Keep going." A raw urgency threaded through his voice.

Ciaran dashed his hands to his friend's belt, hastily unbuckling it while Shannon continued to lick and suck with insistence on his neck. His body shuddered from the attention, eyes closing, for a second. He yanked Shannon's belt free. Finding his zipper, he plunged it down and hesitated. "I-I'm not sure, what do I do?"

Lost in desire, he drove them both down onto the bed. Ciaran landed on his back and he fell on top of him. While inflicting a steady stream of persistent kisses and supple bites on Ciaran's neck, he tilted his body enough to reach down and unfasten Ciaran's trousers. His mouth ran down over his friend's undershirt, stopping at a nipple, coaxing and biting until the nub hardened through the thin fabric. He shoved his hand into Ciaran's pants.

Moans of building need escaped Ciaran while Shannon dove his hand into the moist depths of his groin.

His hand found Ciaran's erection. He pumped precise and steady on his solid cock. Slowing his assault, he found himself wanting to savor every second of their encounter this time.

Ciaran bucked. "F-faster, p-please," he whined.

"Shh…" He halted his actions all together, having other things in mind. Sitting up on his knees, he peeled his shirt away, flinging it to the floor. He looked down at Ciaran.

Hunger flared in Ciaran's eyes while they roamed his friend's bare chest.

It surprised him to think Ciaran would want him, even with his eyes open, seeing full well he was male. Turning his attention to his trousers, he slipped them down with his boxers to his knees, sat on the bed and removed them. He threw them to the floor with his shirt and gazed at Ciaran.

Ciaran's eyes clearly focused on Shannon's erection.

He grinned with sinful intent. "Do you want to touch it?"

Ciaran nodded and licked his lips.

He lay down on his side, next to his friend.

Reaching a timid hand out, Ciaran surrounded Shannon's cock with a light touch. As if fascinated by it, he moved his palm softly, elegantly, up and down his shaft.

Moaning, he tilted his head back. Ciaran's touch was delicious, so soft it almost tickled. A shiver shook him and he lowered his head to crush Ciaran's lips beneath his own.

Ciaran's mouth opened and their tongues engaged, probing each other.

Bringing his hand up to Ciaran's face, he caressed his cheek. He pulled away. "Ciaran, I uh, is this okay? I mean—you want this?"

"God, Shannon, do you have to ask?" Impatience and irritation flooded his voice and washed over his face.

Another grin spread across his lips as he repositioned himself over Ciaran's waist. Reaching across, he pulled his friend's shirt up over his chest, lowering his head into the soft skin of his taut stomach. He licked and teased the sensitive area, causing Ciaran's muscles to flex.

Ciaran placed his hands on the back of Shannon's head. He pressed on it, pushing him further down.

When he reached the top of Ciaran's pants, he pushed his slick tongue just under the waistband of his boxers. A deep groan from Ciaran sent a pulse of desire through his body.

It was unbelievable, how much Ciaran affected him. He set his palm on the thin covering of Ciaran's undergarment, over his erection, and with just enough pressure, slid it sensually up and down. His hand stopped to let his fingers feel the lip under the head of his friend's shaft. Running small circles with his thumb in just the right spot, he elicited another drawn out moan and thrusting from Ciaran.

Reaching up, he tugged at the top of Ciaran's trousers and boxers. Ciaran's hips rose to allow him to pull both garments down and off. He sat on bent legs between Ciaran's, letting his gaze roam upward to his friend's exposed groin. He definitely liked what he saw. Ciaran's thick cock made a delicious curve upward to rest at the bottom of his navel.

Taking one quick glance into Ciaran's face, he glimpsed an urgent craving he'd only imagined in his fantasies. His attention refocused on his friend's groin. He surrounded the base of his cock with his palm and lowered his mouth between Ciaran's thighs. He licked slow and sensual up Ciaran's shaft. He wouldn't give him too much, not yet.

Gasping, Ciaran's cock pulsed under Shannon's tongue. His hands pressed the back of Shannon's head once again.

He took the head of Ciaran's erection into his mouth and swirled his tongue around it, tasting the pearl of seed gathered there.

Ciaran pressed harder on his friend's head as if striving to push him lower. "Damn, Shannon, keep doing that."

He wasn't sure if he could hold out. His own erection ached for attention—something, anything to lesson the persistent tension mounting inside him. He reached down quickly and stroked himself, relieving some of his frustration. Driving his mouth down hard onto Ciaran, he took all of him inside.


	5. Excerpt 5

**A Summer Without Rain**

© Copyright Christie Gordon

All rights reserved, eXtasy Books

ISBN: 978-1-55487-231-2

_Adult Excerpt 2:_

Shannon turned the silver spigot on the tub, starting the water for his bath. Good thing Ciaran decided to wait in bed while he cleaned up. He could finally think through how he would handle being back in their hometown. Peering at himself in the mirror, he went through the tedious motions of shaving. How would he ever be able to look Father Brennan in the face again? Would the priest somehow see the sin in his eyes while he sat in church on Sunday? Would the love he shared with Ciaran somehow shine like a beacon to everyone in the town?

He finished the last stroke with his razor on his chin, watching the dark particles dissipate under a cascade of liquid from the faucet. He turned his attentions to the lukewarm water in the claw-foot bathtub. It was so hot already, a cool bath would be just what he needed.

He dipped his fingers in the water. It was nice and cool, perfect for a hot day. He removed his pants and boxers, stepped into the tub and lowered himself in. _It felt so good_. Surrounding his body, the water removed the remnants of sweat and lovemaking. He frowned for a moment. Ciaran's scent would be washed from his skin, too. He twisted his torso to grab the soap.

Ciaran's naked body stood in the doorway.

He startled. "Damn, you scared the shite out of me." A sadder-than-intended smile spread on his face.

Ciaran padded over to him and picked up the small bar of soap.

"What are you doing?" A puzzled expression washed over his face.

Ciaran slid into the tub, positioning himself directly behind Shannon. With his legs spreading out on either side of his lover, the water enveloped him. "I was just lying there, thinking how I should be spending every second with you while we're here. You know, since we won't be able to be like this when we get home. And so I decided to help you wash." His voice was soft as velvet.

The bar of soap and Ciaran's slick hands slid in circles across his back. Having Ciaran cleanse him was like a dream. The sensation flowed through him, making a soft moan escape his lips. Closing his eyes, he lost himself in Ciaran's sensual touch.

"Don't get any ideas, my wicked lover. We still have to get out of here in the next half hour."

Feigning a cough, he sat upright. When did he lean so far back into him? "Yeah, right." His voice was hoarse. The soap and Ciaran's slippery palm caressed his chest and abdomen. "Maybe I should let you wash me when there's more time," his voice wavered as Ciaran's hand brushed over his nipple. His cock hardened.

Grinning, Ciaran let his hand drop down to find Shannon's erection.

He took a quick inhale.

"I told you we don't have time." Ciaran's voice had a clear taunting quality to it. He pressed his lips to the back of his neck.

A shiver ran down his spine. Another, more urgent moan escaped him.

Ciaran's hips moved forward, pressing his erection firmly against Shannon's lower back.

Under his breath, he said, "Damn, Ciaran, you're making this impossible." Lowering himself backward, he leaned against Ciaran's hard chest. A slick hand seized his erection and pumped him with surprising urgency and speed. Sharp breaths whispered over his ear. Hungry hips thrust with insistence against his back.

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